


The Couch

by yikesola



Series: giving the people what they want [26]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2009, Early Days, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:00:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23084389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yikesola/pseuds/yikesola
Summary: Phil goes to the linen closet where his mum always keeps an assortment of clean sheets and blankets and pillows. He plops them on the couch in the corner of his bedroom. Just in case. He doesn’t want Dan to think he’s assumed anything.A fic about appearances and distance.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Series: giving the people what they want [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1343839
Comments: 28
Kudos: 157





	1. October 19

**Author's Note:**

  * For [calvinahobbes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/calvinahobbes/gifts).



> Happy Birthday [cal](http://calvinahobbes.tumblr.com) ✨💞 and big thanks to [keelin](http://ahappydnp.tumblr.com) for the encouraging beta!

Phil should really have done a little more prep for Dan’s visit, he’s realising. But he kinda spent every free minute since his parents left either sleeping, or in town with Ian, or— mostly— talking to Dan. Hours and hours of Skype, a constant text convo back and forth, DailyBooth and Twitter where it feels like they’re absolutely, definitely, no doubt about it, flirting. 

And he’s getting a little nervous about how much of it is... like, a performance? Private things like texting and MSN and Skype are just as flirtatious as the platforms they use where everyone can see. Sometimes more so, sometimes flirtatious tiptoes over to suggestive, inches very close to earnestness. 

Phil doesn’t _think_ he’s misread things. He doesn’t think what he feels is all one-sided. But it’s a horrible possibility, and he can’t quite shake it lurking in the corner of his eye. 

So the few days before Dan arrives, Phil does three last-minute forms of preparation— he goes to the shops so he can be a good host and ensure his guest won’t starve, he does a quick tidy through the house until it’s passably presentable, and he goes to the linen closet where his mum always keeps an assortment of clean sheets and blankets and pillows. He plops them on the couch in the corner of his bedroom. 

Just in case. 

He doesn’t want Dan to think he’s assumed anything. He doesn’t want Dan to think that he expects _anything_ out of the next three days. 

*

Dan isn’t sure if he’s buzzing more from the saccharine sweet caramel macchiatos they’d had earlier, or from the cocktails they paid way too much for because it came with the skybar view, or from kissing Phil on the Manchester Eye and pulling back to see not the look of disgust he’d feared so badly, but instead the widest grin he’d ever seen on Phil’s face before he was pulled in for a second kiss. 

He absolutely is buzzing though, so much so that he doesn’t half pay attention to the attempt at a house tour Phil makes. He wants to see the house, he does. He wants to pour over all the photos on the walls and hear Phil’s endless anecdotes that each room and each piece of furniture and each square freaking inch of the place has. But the buzzing is blocking most things out, all he can do is keep walking on air until he’s stood in the doorway of a room he knows all too well from countless YouTube video viewings and through the grainy Skype screen. 

A room with fluorescent green carpet and pinstriped blue walls. A room with an Uma Thurman poster on the door and a bright patterned duvet on the bed and photos he’s only ever seen out of focus tacked onto the wardrobe doors. 

Phil has his arms open as though he’s displaying the place. “And here’s my room, of course,” he says. 

Dan steps close to the photos on the wardrobe and scans the faces of old, old friends, and friends from uni. He guesses the dates by looking at Phil’s hairstyles. He wonders how long it will take him to earn a place here. Maybe he and Phil just need to print out an actual photo, even though until today everything they’ve ever said and done has been online. 

When he turns around, Phil is still standing by the door. He’s dropped his arms and turns quickly to look over to the wall, which tells Dan all he needs to know about if Phil had been staring at him or not. 

“It’s so weird to actually be here,” Dan says, “like… it’s weird because it’s not weird, y’know?” 

Phil nods. “Yeah, well you’ve been here loads technically. Just, now you can touch things.” 

Dan’s not one to turn down even the hint of an invitation. “Good point,” he says, picking up the corner of the duvet between this thumb and index finger. “I can touch things, and make sure they’re real,” he says, patting Lion’s head where he sits on Phil’s desk. 

“Very real,” Phil says, still nodding. “All of it.”

Dan walks past the arm of a little, sheet-covered couch to get close to where Phil is standing. He brings a hand up to cup Phil’s chin. “Super real,” he smiles, “high definition.” He leans forward and kisses him. 

*

It was never going to be an early night, Phil new, even if Dan was train tired and even if they spent all day in town. They’ve spent enough nights chatting into the wee hours that the idea of being in the same place for once and deciding to turn in at a reasonable time is nothing short of laughable. 

Which means that by the time they do change into pyjamas and brush their teeth and all signs point to approaching sleeptown, Phil isn’t as smooth as he had maybe hoped he would be when he brings up Dan’s options of accommodations. “There’s, er, the guest room you can have, or my brother’s room which has a TV in it. There’s also…” he can feel himself blushing, “my bed.” He fakes a cough, which turns into a real cough. “Oh, and the couch. Which isn’t as uncomfy as it looks.” 

Dan doesn’t say anything right away. Which scares Phil enough that he keeps talking. 

“God, I’m a shit host aren’t I?” Phil says, pushing his fringe off his forehead. “I’ll take the couch and you can have the bed. The couch has clean sheets though, and mine, uhh doesn’t. I should’ve thought about this earlier. I dunno why I didn’t ask you until now...” 

“Your bed is fine,” Dan says. “We’re tall, but we’ll fit.” His voice is quiet, and he’s not looking at Phil. He’s looking, instead at the couch. Phil notices, perhaps for the first time, how close it actually is to his bed. There isn’t that much space separating the two pieces of furniture. But the idea that Dan doesn’t even want that much space between them tonight is making his head spin. 

“You sure?” Phil asks. 

“So long as you didn’t only offer to be nice,” Dan laughs. It’s one of those defensive laughs that Phil always wants to replace when he hears it; replace with the kind of laugh Dan makes that Phil can feel down to the soles of his feet. 

Phil just shakes his head. Words aren’t coming easily, so instead he makes an animal screech and lunges towards Dan to wrap an arm around his waist and drag him towards the bed. Dan is proper laughing now, and Phil feels drunk off of it. That laughter is so much fucking better in person, and he really didn’t think that was possible.


	2. November 6

It’s colder this time than when Dan came up to Manchester in October. It’s only been a few weeks, but Dan does feel like it’s been ages since he stepped off the train and into Phil’s arms. 

Little things have shifted now, plenty of them. They’re not accidentally matching this time. He knows when he kisses Phil that he’ll be kissed back. He has stood in Phil green and blue bedroom and lived to tell the tale. 

And this visit north wouldn’t be quite so terrifying if it weren’t for one tremendous factor— the Lesters are back from Florida. He and Phil won’t have the run of the house anymore. There are two sets of eyes that know their son very well without knowing one particularly vital thing about him, and they’ll be watching Dan the whole three days and two nights he spends in Rawtenstall. He just knows it. 

He doesn’t worry about that when he sees Phil standing on the platform waiting for him, hands awkwardly shoved into his pocket and cupid’s bow so goddamn inviting that it takes every bit of Dan’s keen awareness that they’re in public to resist kissing him. 

“Look,” Phil says as they’re making their way to the bus stop. He’s tugging the collar of the shirt he’s wearing from under his coat. It is the dark collar of a striped polo Dan had left behind last time, per Phil’s request. 

Dan looks down at his feet while they walk. He can feel his rosy patch blush. He feels Phil poke his dimple. “Looks good,” Dan says, pushing Phil’s hand away with a laugh. “Suits you.” 

*

Introducing Dan isn’t as scary as Phil had feared. It helps that his parents think he’s just introducing a mate. They don’t grill him the way sitcoms imply overprotective parents grill new potential boyfriends. 

Dan is lovely, as always. He wants Phil’s parents to like him even if they don’t quite understand what’s going on. 

Phil doesn’t want to admit how much that makes all his insides warm. 

“I’ve changed the sheets in the guest room for you, Dan,” his mum says before they walk out of the kitchen. She points at Phil, “I can only imagine this one didn’t bother after you visited last time.” 

“Actually, he’s gonna crash on the couch, in my room,” Phil says. He hopes his face is neutral. He hopes he is convincing. 

“That old thing? It’s all lumps.” 

“I’ve had worse,” Dan smiles. “It’s alright, Mrs. Lester.” 

Kath shrugs. “Well, you don’t have the back of an old woman, that’s for sure.” 

Phil tugs Dan’s sleeve and ushers him towards the stairs, but he’s sure to remind his mum she isn’t old on their way out.

*

Dan has stolen his polo back. It smells like Phil, and it's warm because he’s only just pulled it off, and Dan tries to harness that creepy enjoyment of these things into the video they’re about to film about befriending internet stars.

Phil keeps petting Dan’s hat and as much as Dan wants to pretend he hates it, he really fucking doesn’t. 

But he does threaten to tape up Phil’s hands earlier than necessary for the shot they need if he doesn’t stop. It’s a good thing he doesn’t actually because there’s soon two short knocks on Phil’s door and before they can be answered his mum is sticking her head in. 

“We’re off to bed,” she says. “Sure you’re comfortable in here, Dan?” 

“Of course, Mrs. Lester, thanks,” he says, offering the kind of polite smile his nana taught him years ago. 

Phil leans back on his bed after his mum shuts the door. Dan is still sat on the floor where he had been speaking to the camera. “Does that always happen?” he asks Phil. 

“What?”

“Barely a knock and then they come in?”

Phil shrugs. “It’s their house. They’ve been doing that since I was a kid. I think sometimes they forget I’m nearly twenty-three.”

Dan looks over at the couch he’s never actually slept on. “Would be pretty bad if she did that in the morning and we were both asleep in your bed, huh?” 

Phil shrugs again. But they both know it would be. 

*

Phil knows his parents have been asleep for hours by the time he and Dan are ready for bed. Dan has the actual audacity to spread his long body on the little couch and mumble, “G’night” before Phil is stood over him. Phil starts poking his sides, tickling that soft warm skin. 

“You’re not actually sleeping on that, Howell,” he says over Dan’s hushed laughter, “unless you can convince me that you really, _really_ want to.” 

Dan sits up and uses a long leg to push Phil out of tickling range. “But if your parents walk in…” 

Phil grabs his phone. “We have like five hours before they’re even going to be up,” he says. He sets an alarm for around that time. “There, I’ll kick you out of my bed then, and not a minute sooner.” 

Dan wastes no time leaping off the couch and pushing Phil onto his own bed. They’re a tangle of limbs and laughter trying to be quiet in the still and silent house. They mostly succeed. 

Phil falls asleep with his arms wrapped around Dan, and Dan’s face so wonderfully close to him that he keeps sleepily dropping kisses every so often until he actually drifts away. 

*

Dan hears the horrible phone alarm chirp before Phil does. He turns it off and climbs out from Phil’s sheets. He figures there’s no need to wake Phil if he manages to sleep through Dan’s departure. 

He stands by the side of Phil’s bed and bends to kiss the mole by Phil’s jaw and wipe away a drying trail of drool. 

That, not the noise of the alarm of the jostling of Dan climbing out of bed, is what finally wakes Phil up. “You’re leaving,” he pouts. 

Dan lays on the couch and tries to find a way to actually fit. “I’m not _leaving_ leaving,” he says. “Across the room is a far cry from across the country.” 

Phil’s pout deepens. He slides closer to the edge of his bed and holds out his arm. Dan does the same. They almost reach. “Might as well be,” Phil says through a yawn. 

He scoots a little closer. A little too much. He tumbled from his bed with a thud that seems to echo off the wall. 

They’re both laughing and Phil is still curled up on the floor when the door flies open. A wide-eyed Kath in a cornflower blue robe looks at her son and rolls her eyes. “Hit anything important on your way down?” she asks. 

Phil pats his head, “Don’t think so.” 

Kath huffs a relieved laugh and closes the door. Dan also lets out a sound of relief, something too shaky to be laughter though. “Good thing I was on the couch, I guess.” 

Phil gets himself off the floor, at least so much as to be on his knees. He takes the few steps to the couch and kisses Dan, still shaking with a little bit of laughter. He doesn’t seem as worried by Kath’s drop in as Dan is. He’s kissing Dan deeply and deliciously and Dan’s head begins to spin from it. 

When Phil stands and almost immediately plops into his own bed, Dan is still a little out of breath. “I hate that couch,” Phil whispers. “Can’t wait til you're back in here with me.” 

Dan looks at the time on his phone. “Few more hours,” he says, though he has no actual idea of the Lesters’ schedules. 

Phil yawns. “Sleep til then.”

“Mmm,” Dan hums. He holds his arm out again, and Phil does too. They don’t fall this time, and it’s still a little too far. But it won’t be for long.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading— come say hi on [tumblr](http://yikesola.tumblr.com/post/612143592517124096/the-couch) !  
> and here’s a [post](http://yikesola.tumblr.com/post/612143678638718976/so-something-that-i-literally-never-noticed-before) w some pics of the titular couch bc i’m still shocked i never noticed it 😩


End file.
